


Change is in the Air

by TattooedWriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Soul Bond, marriage law, meddling Ministry of Magic, soulmate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-31 23:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TattooedWriter/pseuds/TattooedWriter
Summary: The post-war Ministry is just as meddlesome as before, but this time they're performing a ritual to match Muggleborn and half-blooded wizards with purebloods in a bid to fight the dwindling magical population.Yep, it's a tropetacular! Marriage law! Soulmates! AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.





	Change is in the Air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [otterlyardent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterlyardent/gifts).

> My first published fic in over ten years! A gift for the lovely Otterly Ardent, betaed by HighlyIntelligentBlonde.

Smoke joined the fog hanging over Muggle London as Draco Malfoy stumbled onto the pavement, elbowed roughly by a pair of drunken prats bustling into the crowded pub. Blaise muttered under his breath and the most obnoxious of the bunch tripped, narrowly avoiding going arse over teakettle across the threshold. When Theo raised an accusing eyebrow, Blaise merely shrugged and flashed a wicked smirk.

Just as Draco opened his mouth--whether to thank or insult Blaise he hadn’t decided--Theo cleared his throat and drawled, “As I live and breathe, Hermione Granger. What’s a witch like you doing in a place like this?” 

The scent of apples hit him before her voice, huskier than normal (from the smog? The smoke?) lilted toward him. 

“Hello, Mr. Nott. And such a pity to see you remain both living and breathing.” She inclined her head toward Blaise, biting out a quick “Zabini,” before briefly locking eyes with Draco. Her cheeks flushed as she mumbled “Ferret” before quickly looking away.

Before Draco could reply, another voice cut in. Damn, Muggle alcohol really slows the reflexes.

“Malfoy. Nott. Zabini. Are you going to obstruct the pavement all evening or can we continue on our way?” 

“Ah, She-Weasel. I see libations do nothing to smooth your rough edges. Do you become exponentially more belligerent with each drink, or is it a gradual increase? And our dear Golden Princess--do you join the Weaslette in her boisterous bitchiness or do you become a shrinking violet?” 

Ginny opened her mouth, no doubt to heatedly rebut Nott’s assumptions, but Hermione beat her to the punch. 

“We are only as...obnoxious...as our present company. And right now we’re late to meeting Luna, Hannah, and Susan. Enjoy your evening...gentlemen,” she drawled in a sarcastic facsimile of Draco’s aristocratic arrogance. 

Theo and Blaise glanced at each other, surprised at Granger’s biting words and the lack of response from Draco. In doing so they missed the flicker of some unidentifiable emotion--longing? Regret?--through Draco’s normally impassive features. Hermione, lingering behind Ginny, noticed but shook her head, assuming it was a trick of the Muggle lighting.

“Gin! Wait up! What the hell are those snakes doing in Muggle London, and why didn’t you seem surprised to see them?” 

Ginny slowed, looking at Hermione out of the corner of her eye as she continued toward the new nightclub they’d decided to try that night.

“You know, I’ll need to ask Ron or Harry about that. They might have overheard something during Quidditch or at the pub with Dean and Seamus. Still can’t believe those snooty gits even darken the door of their pub, but Dean says they’ve always been cordial to him even if he is a Muggleborn.” Hermione flinched, wondering if she remained the only Muggleborn to whom they were not cordial, as Ginny continued. 

“Honestly, I was so tempted to hex the lot of them to get them out of our way that I didn’t stop to wonder why they were in Muggle London.” 

Luna, standing close to the end of the queue for the nightclub, overheard the last of the girls’ conversation and turned, blinking owlishly at the two. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were experimenting with Muggle life in case next week’s ritual doesn’t work out the way they want,” she stated matter-of-factly, her eyes returning to the Rubik’s cube in her hands. She regarded it with the same curious analysis she gave Wrackspurts and Nargles, before carefully stowing it in her multicolored bag and turning once more to the pair. “Even Purebloods are considering living as Muggles if they are paired with someone unwelcome.” 

Ginny scoffed. “I wonder what they consider ‘unwelcome.’ Someone without the same amount of galleons in their vaults? Good luck finding half-blood and Muggleborn partners who can compete with the Sacred Twenty-Eight. They’ll all be living as Muggles at this rate.” 

Hermione stifled a giggle at the thought of the spoiled Slytherins living as Muggles, trying to microwave a meal without blowing up their flat. She quickly sobered as she realized she could be in the same situation, torn between fleeing the magical world she'd fought so hard to protect or finding herself all but enslaved to the whims of the new Ministry.

_I think I'm going to need more than one drink here._

**Author's Note:**

> I know this could benefit from a Britpicking if anyone has that particular skill set.


End file.
